


Interlude (Re-entry)

by leiascully



Series: The FBI's Most Unwanted [35]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He treated her as if she were made of eggshells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude (Re-entry)

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Season 2  
> A/N: And we're back.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Her mother had kept her apartment just the way it was, Mulder told her. After the police had catalogued all the slivers of glass and the bloodstains, she thought. It was clean when she came back to it, the window repaired, all of her things right where they ought to be. The air didn't even smell stale. She thought of her mother sitting on her couch, clutching a pillow to her chest while Melissa went around opening all the windows. 

At least Duane Barry had taken her from her living room, and not her bedroom. Her bedroom was still a sanctuary. The living room joined the bathroom on the list of places she would always be a little bit wary.

How strange, to have a hole in her memory. She had never been eidetic like Mulder, but she had always had a head for details. It was like losing a tooth; she probed the edges of the gap even when it ached. At least her med school curriculum was still there. She'd only lost a few months, not herself.

He treated her as if she were made of eggshell. She wanted to tell him that eggshells were stronger than they looked. She was not traumatized. She couldn't remember enough to be traumatized. If she had nightmares, they were of blankness, stark white light. 

She wanted to work. She had mysteries to get to the bottom of. The work kept her from letting her thoughts dip toward that gap. The gap had its own gravity; it tugged at her thoughts, pulled them apart. She wanted the certainty of her badge and her gun and her suits and her title. She could undo most knots with some combination of those things. She would unravel this mystery and follow the trail of it straight to the center of the labyrinth. There would be monsters. She had met monsters before, and endured.

She slept soundly in her own bed, and woke, and dressed, and went to work.


End file.
